


working up to something

by the_littlest_goblin



Series: we will lift you high [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (sort of), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hair Dyeing, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, allusions to episode 72
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 19:10:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19324321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_littlest_goblin/pseuds/the_littlest_goblin
Summary: Vex decides Percy's hair is the perfect canvas. Percy's not sure how he got talked into this.





	working up to something

Percy really should have known what Vex was planning. He should have realized the second she insisted he accompany her to the drug store after he picked her up from work. She’d been trying to talk him into this for months now, after all. 

He blamed his obliviousness on the end of the semester. A certain amount of brain-fog was inevitable after an endless week of studying and sitting exams, pulling several all-nighters in a row to pour over textbooks. It would seem Percy’s brain was too maxed out on equations and mechanical designs to spare room for deciphering his friends’ antics.

The realization didn’t hit until they arrived and Vex made a bee-line for the hair care aisle. Following reluctantly behind her, Percy groaned.

“Oh, come on. This isn’t really why you dragged me here, is it?”

“Well, what did you think we were getting?” She responded, without turning her head.

“I don’t know. You were so insistent we had to stop, I figured you had some sort of… womanly emergency,” he said.

Now Vex did turn to face him. “‘Womanly emergency?’” She echoed, a grin forming on her lips at his expense.

Percy spluttered, “I thought you needed, you know. Feminine hygiene products.” Percy was a mature, forward thinking, progressive young man. Surely he could discuss menstruation with his female friends without blushing or making an idiot of himself.

Based on the heat in his cheeks and the amusement shining in Vex’s eyes, he could not.

“No, Percy,” she said. “We are not here for ‘feminine hygiene products.’ Or as normal people call them, tampons.” She turned around again to examine the merchandise lining the shelves. “We’re here because of our deal.”

“What deal? I never agreed to this,” said Percy.

“Yes, yes you did!” Vex practically shouted. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cell phone, waving it in the air like an overzealous attorney producing a damning piece of evidence. “I have proof!”

Percy watched incredulously as she navigated through her phone, speaking like she had rehearsed this whole interaction. 

“Two weeks ago, at Keyleth’s birthday party. We were talking, and I said, for the thousandth time, how perfect your hair is for dying, and how _incredible_ it would be if you dyed it, and you said, and I quote!” She read from her phone screen in an exaggerated imitation of Percy’s cadence, “Vex, if I survive my exams, I will let you do whatever the hell you like to my hair.” She put her phone away with a self-satisfied smirk. “Are you going to go back on your word, Percival de Rolo?”

“That doesn’t count!” Percy exclaimed. “I was drunk, it was a Keyleth party!”

“You were more sober than I was,” said Vex. “And if I had the presence of mind to write it down so you couldn’t back out, you were certainly clearheaded enough to know what you were saying. Now come on.” She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him deeper into the aisle. The entire left wall was dedicated to hair dye, box after box displaying identical looking models with luscious hair photoshopped into different colors. Most were advertising natural shades of blonde, brown, and red, but Vex led them down to the farthest end of the aisle, where a corner was dedicated to dyes in all the colors of the rainbow. 

“I’m being nice,” said Vex. “I’m going to let you choose the color. And we can get the temporary kind that washes out in a month or two.

“How generous of you,” Percy grumbled, while internally he was thinking, _A month!?_ and very mildly panicking.

Vex seemed to pick up on a bit of his agitation. She let go of his wrist and placed her arm around his shoulder, in what was likely meant to be a comforting gesture. Unfortunately, Percy felt the opposite of relaxed- even through his shirt, his nerves burned everywhere her skin touched and his heartbeat doubled in speed. He could smell her deodorant from here, as well as the signature Vex scent of earth and dog fur. Neither of those things should have been pleasant to him. Clearly his brain was broken. 

“Come on, Percy, this is supposed to be fun! You’ve lived your entire youth like a stuffy old man, it’s time to be a rebellious teenager for once, and do something dumb and reckless just because you can.”

“I’m not a teenager,” Percy pointed out. He was mildly surprised that his voice worked.

“You’re twenty, it’s basically the same thing.”

“If you’re so enthusiastic about rebellion, why don’t you dye your hair?”

“One, because I’ve already done plenty of youthfully rebellious things. I don’t need this the way you do.” Percy did not point out that he had also, in fact, done his fair share of rebelling, though his feats tended a little less towards acceptable teenage recklessness and were more of the outright dangerous and potentially life-threatening sort. 

“Two,” Vex continued, “my hair is way too dark to dye. Your’s is white and perfect.”

“You could bleach it," said Percy. "Plenty of people do it that way.” 

“Do you have any idea how damaging bleach can be on hair?” Vex asked.

“No. Do you?”

“Yes, in fact. I read an article about it.”

“It’s sounding to me,” said Percy, “like this is less about helping me loosen up and be a proper young person, and more about you living vicariously through me so that you don’t risk damaging your hair.”

“That is not it at all,” said Vex. “I’m insulted you would even ask.” Then she slid her arm from around his shoulder and took his hand again, positioning her body in front of his so he had no choice but to look at her. “I’m serious, Percy,” she said, and she sounded it. The familiar teasing quality was gone from her voice, and she met his eyes with a gravity that felt completely out of place for the situation.

“You never have fun,” she said flatly. “You don’t,” she cut Percy off when he opened his mouth to respond. “Even when we all go out drinking together and get completely sloshed, you’re always trying so hard to be the responsible one. The rest of us are all constantly making fools of ourselves, but you can’t let yourself go enough to ever relax.” She brought her free hand up to cup his cheek, and Percy felt his breath hitch. “I know you’re under a lot of pressure. I know you come from a stiff upper lip sort of upbringing — believe me, I’ve been there. But you don’t have to be so perfect all the time. You’re allowed to fuck up. And you’re allowed to not look totally put together.” She let go of his cheek to tug playfully at his tie. “I mean, for the gods’ sake, Percival. It’s a million degrees outside and you’re a _student_. I’m surprised your classmates don’t mistake you for a professor, dressed like this.”

“They have,” Percy said. “A couple of times.”

Vex let out a soft laugh at that, and Percy preened.

Vex had a bit of a point (though she clearly didn’t have the whole picture if she thought Percy had any chance of being remotely perfect. How could she? He had never told her about his many, many mistakes, but that was a conversation for another time). What Vex should know, but apparently failed to see, was that Percy was perfectly comfortable loosening up and making a fool of himself, so long as it was to make her laugh. He would do anything for that smile, to watch happiness smooth the ever-present lines of worry out of her face. 

Which was why he gently pushed her out of his way and carefully examined the shelf of hair dye she had been blocking. He immediately dismissed the garish neons or anything where the model on the front was wearing heavy eyeliner — he still had some standards after all.

His gaze fell down to the bottom row, which held a selection of subtler, almost pastel shades. He knelt down and picked out a box advertising a sort of periwinkle color that reminded him distantly of the purple in the de Rolo family crest. It seemed fitting. 

“Here,” he said, standing back up and handing the box to Vex. She looked at the box and back at him, surprised. 

“Really?” She said, eyes wide.

Percy tapped the tiny writing on the label. “‘Fades in thirty washes,’” he read out. “If it’s still there in a month, you and the manufacturers will be hearing from my lawyers.”

Vex smiled. “You’re not supposed to wash your hair every day, Percy.”

“You are when your hair is purple and you’re visiting home in exactly thirty one days.” He smiled back at her. “Come on, l’ve made my decision. Let’s check out, I’m paying.”

“Obviously,” Vex snorted.

And if she snuck a chocolate bar onto the counter while Percy handed his credit card to the cashier, he wasn’t about to say anything against it.

 

* * *

 

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Percy asked.

“Nope!” Vex said cheerily.

They were back at Vex’s apartment, crammed together in its single bathroom. There’d been a brief argument about the optimal location for this venture on the way home — Percy had pointed out that his apartment had a much larger bathroom that would more comfortably fit the both of them. Vex had rebutted that his bathroom was also much fancier, and she would not be blamed for staining his impeccable countertop if they made a mess. Percy had said that he could pay to get it cleaned, and Vex had glared at him, and then he made the turn towards her neighborhood. 

They’d made the proper arrangements by following the recommendations from an internet how-to guide that Vex pulled up on her phone. Vex had given Percy a t-shirt of Vax’s to wear so dye wouldn’t drip onto his white dress shirt, and while he’d changed, she’d laid down some towels to protect the linoleum floor, and she had definitely not pictured Percy changing clothes in the next room. 

Now Percy was seated on the edge of the bathtub, towel wrapped around his shoulders and glasses tucked safely out of the way, while Vex attempted to unfold the instruction manual with plastic-gloved hands.

“Would you like some help?” Percy offered.

“I’ve got it, just give me a second.” Vex finally got her latex wrapped fingers around the paper, and her eyes dashed quickly over the instructions. “Alright. We can just get to it, I guess.” Vex uncapped the bottle and sniffed it cautiously. She made a face. “Ergh, that’s nasty.” Then she looked at Percy, eyebrows raised. “Last chance to back out.”

“This was your idea. Do you want me to do this or not?”

“Of course I do,” she said. “But it’s still your choice. I'm not going to force you to do it if you don’t want to.”

Percy rolled his eyes. Oddly, Vex’s sudden hesitance was making him more certain. He closed his eyes and titled his head back toward her. “Do it.”

Slowly, carefully, Vex squeezed out a dollop of the dye and began spreading it around and working it into his hair. A minute passed, then she added more. Again, again, working her way down and around Percy’s head, careful to cover every inch. Despite the chill of the liquid, her hands through his hair felt extremely soothing, and Percy had to force himself not to lean into it, lest his pleasure become too apparent and make things weird. 

‘Making things weird’ was something Percy was becoming acutely aware of when it came to Vex. Lately he had begun to feel like he was walking a tightrope with her. Light flirtation had always been par for the course with them, since they’d first met, but in the past few weeks their interactions had begin to feel more charged, and it seemed like the slightest misstep could send him careening down into unknown perils.

Some days Percy was determined to ignore it. Other days he wanted desperately to fling himself off the side of the tightrope, diving headfirst into the unknown. 

Today, it seemed, was one of the latter days.

“Vex—”

Percy hadn’t meant to open his mouth, and he had no idea what he was going to say to her. Luckily, he was saved from figuring it out by the sound of apartment door swinging open and a deep _woof!_ from Trinket.

“I’m home!” Vax’s voice rang throughout the small apartment. “Where are you?”

“In here!” Vex called.

“Great. An audience, just what this needed,” Percy groaned.

Vex didn’t say anything, but he could practically feel her smirk. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Vax said from the doorway. Percy and Vex both jumped at his sudden, soundless appearance. The sneaker fucker.

“What does it look like?” Vex asked.

“Well, it looks like your dying de Rolo’s hair, but that can’t possibly be the case because one, the stick up his ass would never allow it—”

“Hey—”

“And two, because if you had somehow managed to talk the little lordling into this, you would definitely have told me so I could be there to watch and possible film it.”

Vex shrugged. “You were at work.”

“That’s no excuse,” said Vax, before lifting himself onto the counter and making himself comfortable in the negligible free space.

“You’re such an asshole,” said Vex, and Percy did his best to nod in agreement without moving his head too much. He was sure he looked utterly ridiculous.

“I could be helpful," Vax insisted. "I do work at a hair salon, I could tell you if you’re doing it wrong.”

“You only work there part time, and all you do is sweep and man the desk. You have no qualifications for this.” As she spoke, Vex resumed spreading the dye through Percy’s hair. He wished she wouldn’t — what had been pleasant and vaguely sensual when it was just the two of them now became supremely uncomfortable with the addition of Vax, and Percy wasn’t sure how much more awkwardness he could take before he did something drastic. 

“Is that my shirt, Freddie?”

Maybe if Percy asked nicely, Trinket would maul him to death and save him from this torment. It would be a mercy killing.

 

* * *

 

Unbeknownst to Percy, at that moment Vex was actually following a very similar line of thought. She tried to cover it with her usual cool, unruffled demeanor, but Vax’s appearance was sending her spiraling. As soon as he had entered the threshold and taken in the scene—Vex and Percy, pressed close together in the tiny bathroom, Vex’s hands all over Percy and Percy utterly failing not to enjoy it—Vax had given her such a knowing look that she felt her face burn like a hot oven. The twins knew each other well enough to communicate without words, and Vex knew exactly what her brother was thinking when he gave her that look.

At the same party where Percy had drunkenly sealed his fate, Vax had pulled his sister aside later in the night, while the rest were distracted watching Keyleth and Grog battle it out in their favorite player-vs-player video game. (Grog, as always, had picked the avatar that looked exactly like himself, while Keyleth chose to play as an elephant.Scanlan and Percy were their rapt audience.) 

Secluded in the kitchen, Vex had watched her brother hem and haw for several minutes, procrastinating by opening another bottle of Scanlan’s wine for each of them, before she couldn’t take it anymore.

“So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” She’d asked.

Vax sighed, and then said, without preamble, “How long are you going to keep torturing yourself for?” 

Suddenly feeling a lot less amused, Vex took a leaf out of her brother’s book and swallowed a few large gulps from her wine to stall.

“What are you even talking about?” She’d finally replied, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Of course, she knew exactly what he was talking about.

Vax wasn’t having it. “You. Percival. You know I’ve known for a while. So when are you going to do something about it?”

Vex hadn’t known the answer then, and she certainly didn’t know the answer now. So instead of acknowledging the elephant in the room, she simply continued the task at hand, willfully ignoring her brother’s pointed gaze as well as whatever feelings she was having about the man behind her art project.

“That should be enough now. I think I’ve got it spread pretty even.” She ruffled Percy’s hair one last time for good measure before stripping off the soggy latex gloves.

“What next?” Percy asked.

Vax, who was closer, picked up the instruction manual before Vex could reach it and read, “‘Let dye sit for thirty minutes. Then rinse.” He glanced between the two of them, grinning. “ _Larkin Watch_ is on soon. What better way to pass a half an hour?”

“Nobody likes that show but you, Vax,” said Vex, but she followed her brother into the main living room/kitchen area and plopped down next to him in front of their ancient TV. Percy followed behind, towel still wrapped around his shoulders and his hair a dripping, violet mess. He looked adorable. 

Percy sat down on the floor rather than try and squish onto the couch next to Vex. Vex tried not to be disappointed. 

_It’s for the best_ , she thought to herself. Better not to test the waters further, lest she slip and fall headfirst into the icy depths. She needed time to think, alone, before she did something rash. And there was nothing better to kill any romantic or sexual atmosphere like an episode of _Larkin Watch_ with her brother.

**Author's Note:**

> The genesis of this fic was essentially me remembering when Taliesin had Percy hair and going "ok but what if... percy... had taliesin hair..."
> 
> I have enough modern au headcanons that I'm considering making this a series of one-shots. If that's something you'd be interested in reading, leave a comment and let me know!


End file.
